


A Good Woman Goes to War

by nelliecrain (orphan_account)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/F, TWD AU, Violent Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-20 23:42:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16565378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/nelliecrain
Summary: Placeholder Title





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No beta we die like men

Yasmin Khan _ran._ Ran like she'd never run before.

She swore any moment now she'd topple over, smash into the pavement and leave herself for dead. She could barely keep her wits about her, her breaths wheezing and ragged as she bolted through the cityscape. Even her rock-hard grip on the handgun digging into her palm gave her an overwhelming sense of dread. She'd already had to fire the thing twice now, the ricochet sound of bullets bouncing against her skull with every step along with the hollow moans of her own sister. 

No. That thing was not her sister. An amalgamation of pallor, greying flesh and bloody stains, a gasping demon of primal instinct to consume, maybe, but _not_ her sister.

Even when Yaz had pulled the trigger and watched a familiar face turn to nothing....

A street light right ahead of her- she stumbled to one side in a panic, feet tripping over one another as she yelped out in surprise. She came full-force impact on something firm and warm, pushing it out of her wake and only realizing that she'd had a _close_ brush with a biter moments later.

Instinct told her to pull out her gun. _Better judgement told her to save bullets_.

So she kept running, adrenaline pumping her systems full of natural anesthetic and mind-melding focus. Her feet buzzed like she'd slept on them wrong, arms felt heavy and wrong- but she couldn't stop _moving_! If she stopped, it would be certain death for her.

The city swallowed her whole, and wouldn't spit her back up. No matter how much it seemed she ran, none of the twisting streets and towering buildings gave way to a road out, a highway- anything to get her _out_ of this deathtrap. She couldn't bear to look back and have to see someone else she knew. A shopkeeper, someone she'd spoken to at work, and with a sickening jolt she realized, her own _parents_ - 

"Look out!"

Her heart jumped to her throat and she squeezed her gun- the sharp curves of it's handle digging bright red lines into her palms. Her feet skidded to a stop without warning, and she froze, staring dead ahead into the pit of a horde of creatures. 

They were like a wave of bugs- festering, pushing over one another, the groans and screams creating a cacophony of hopeless fear. Some were fresh, with blood dripping from their chins and onto their shirts, and others like a carcass dug up years after it's time. 

She spun around, but no.

They were _everywhere_. 

Surrounding, enclosing, pulling, capturing, scrambling, screaming, ripping, tearing, gnashing- 

"Hey, you, I told you to _look out_!" The voice snapped, and she realized it was coming from above her; Overhead, on a rooftop. 

With little time to lose, she looked up, and sure enough, a man was waving her closer to the building, something round and dark gripped in his hand. 

"In the building, come on,"

Yaz didn't need to think twice. Her legs started moving again, and boy did she _run_. 

Through the doors, turning only to slam them shut- hoping that none of the biters would follow- and then up flights of stairs as if her legs were suddenly capable of anything. She ran until there were no more stairs to run up, and suddenly it all came to her.

Yasmin let out a heaving breath, and her knees buckled at the top of the stairs. She collapsed against the wall before the doors to the rooftop, letting her gun fall out of her limp fingers. She could hear her own lungs starving for air, the blood roaring in her ears and a wave of dizzy nausea running over her. 

She'd like very much to close her eyes, now, just for a bit. Just until she could recover....

The doors opened with a metallic screech, jolting Yaz back to reality with a second wind of adrenaline and fear. Her hand grabbed for the gun, scrambling to her knees to point it up at whatever was facing her-

"Hey, chill!" A human face. A _living_ face. The man in the doorway stuck both hands in the air, shoulders pushed up defensively.

Yasmin huffed a sigh of relief before putting both hands on the ground to push herself up. "You have no idea how happy I am to-"

"Yeah, talk later," the man spoke promptly as soon as the gun was down. "Barricade the doors _now_."

Together, they pushed the rooftop doors shut, the heavy metal cold against Yaz's burning skin. The man forced a bar through the handles, giving it a firm tug before stepping back. 

"Graham, we've got the doors," he called over his shoulder. 

 _Right_. The other voice, the one who'd been yelling at her on the street.

"Cover your ears!" It called from a little ways away. Yaz opened her mouth, turning, ready to ask a million questions-

_BOOM!_

The shock rattled the building in it's foundation. Yaz nearly screamed, stumbling back to the door to give hold on _something_ steady. 

"What was that?" She demanded, one hand going to her pounding head, the other still tight on her gun.

"Grenade." 'Graham' responded, loudly, as if he was saying 'pencil' or 'apple'. _Grenade_?!

"Where'd you get a grenade?"

"Found it," Graham passed closer, and Yaz could tell they'd been in the same trouble she had. The older man had blood splattered down his sweater. The other one, who had yet to be introduced, had discolored smears on his jeans, his hands dry with the stuff. She'd barely thought about how awful _she_ probably looked. Ruffled, shocked, probably, but _bloody_ and _torn._ "You hurt?"

"No," Yasmin said after a moment. 

"Good. I'm Graham, that's Ryan. We need to keep those things off of this rooftop."


	2. Chapter 2

_It all came back in brief flashes of memory._

_She had been at home when the worst of it broke, but even before then they'd been getting all the News Reports and broadcasts, all the warnings on the papers yelling about viral outbreaks in the states crossing overseas. The press horror stories about kids going nuts on their parents, only feverish days before but now strong as a grown man, ripping out throats and and breaking through the window._

_She'd been at home, and Sonya was sick._

 

"Ryan, grab that box for me, would you?"

Yaz looked up. The older man, Graham, had been moving old cardboard boxes left on the graveled rooftop to block the door. Ryan had moved to help him, taking one end of the box, but visibly struggled to pull it over. Yaz was beside him in moments, grabbing the other side and shooting him a little smile as they lifted the box together and placed it in front of the others.

Ryan mouthed a little 'thanks'.

"Hey, did you get a good look at the horde from over there?" Graham motioned over at her. She'd been standing by the ledge of the roof, unable to look down, only sit and listen to the chorus of monotone groans. 

"No," she replied honestly, "but I can tell you it isn't any better than before."

Graham's frown sunk. "Thought so."

Yaz opened her mouth to offer something of support- but nothing came. What was there to say? They were trapped in a city practically _full_ of biters and no way off of this building. _It was a mistake to come here in the first place_ , Yaz thought to herself. _You should have kept running_.

"What's your name, by the way?" Ryan offered from beside her. 

"Yasmin. Yaz to my friends." In the rush of it all, she never mentioned her name. Impolite of her, maybe, but then again- this was life-or-death. She was starting to have doubts on if that was actually setting in yet or not. Shouldn't she be frantic? Panicked? Grieving? But she wasn't. She was numb, apart from her paralyzing fear. Maybe Graham was the same, that must've been why he was acting so goal-oriented. Doesn't he have family? Are they down _there_? 

She stopped herself. She took a breath. 

"Listen..." Yaz started testily, weight rolling onto the balls of her feet. "If we get on the ground, I can get us weapons. Police Station, just up the street." She pointed for emphasis, as if the roaring waves of biters weren't an issue. "Guns, ammo, and vests."

"Someone's bound to come get us!" Ryan interjected, hands splayed out by his sides. "They can't just let a whole city go, the government- they'll save us!"

"Yeah," Graham nodded along. "There've been other outbreaks, haven't there? Like in San Francisco, we've all seen the news."

"Not this big!" Yasmin snapped, growing visibly impatient. "San Francisco was _contained_. They burned out half of Tokyo in hours."

"It's been what, an hour tops? Since we were all safe?" Graham shot back. "Give it time! We can wait here overnight, they'll get us."

Yazmin shook her head, stepping back. "That's the point, don't you see? Everything happened in _moments_ \- the city turned in _moments_."

Ryan was starting to look wide-eyed. Yaz bit her lip, considering her next words carefully.

"Nobody is coming for us. Not with this many of them. If we stay here overnight, we might _die_."

Graham looked away- and for a moment, Yaz thought he was seeing her point. "And if we leave," he looked back with a crease on his brow. "We'll die too."

 

_She'd been at home, and Sonya was sick._

_Sick for the past week. Pale, sweaty, gasping for air like she was having an asthma attack._

_They'd all watched the news like their lives depended on it, watching for any updates on the epidemic. Worldwide, sudden, and deadly._

_Their neighbor's son had been sick too. She took him to the clinic that'd been set up downtown. There were so many of them, the news said, in all the big cities. For victims._

_Her son never came back, and she refused to speak of him or what had happened in those white-flapped tents._

_Sonya never left that house. Not while she was sick, and not after, her brain splattered on the wall in a perfectly shaking-handed shot bullet hole._

_Yasmin didn't wait for her mom, or her dad, who were out at the shop. She didn't call anyone. She stood there, petrified and swaying, until she knew her parents weren't coming back from that store._

_It was the next morning when the shock carried her out of the house and onto the streets, and it was moments after the sunlight breached her eyes when she saw the dead roaming._

_It all happened like the drop of a hat, and like that, her entire life blew into pieces against the wall._

_She was numb._

 


End file.
